


Clear Skies

by appelkoek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F, Gen, Mercy and Mccree are BFFS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 12:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7617844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appelkoek/pseuds/appelkoek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Pharmercy Harry Potter AU</p><p>Angela’s acceptance letter comes a few days after her eleventh birthday, just like her mom had always said it would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear Skies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Radycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radycat/gifts).



> Inspired by Radycat's art.  
> I've taken a lot of liberties with Angela's background story and have shuffled a bit with the age of the characters, so please keep that in mind.

Angela’s acceptance letter comes a few days after her eleventh birthday, just like her mom had always said it would. There is a firm tapping on the window of the kitchen as she and her aunt are eating breakfast toast. When she looks up, Angela sees it’s an unfamiliar owl holding an envelope. She turns her head to her aunt, tips it questioningly, and rises from her seat once her aunt nods at her with a shaky smile.

As she slides the window open to retrieve the letter, she glimpses the Hogwarts coat of arms and feels a brief surge of panic grip her body. It’s silly, she knows, it’s not like they would send her a rejection letter, but she can’t stop her hands from shaking as she takes the letter from the owl. She gently ruffles the feathers on top of its head to thank them, but mostly to ground herself. The owl nuzzles briefly into her hand, as if feeling her distress, then turns around and flies off.

She waits until the owl is only a small speck in the distance before turning around and sitting back down. Her aunt’s shaky smile has turned into a sympathetic one, as if she too knows what’s worrying Angela. She huffs and sends her aunt a smile back with confidence she doesn’t feel, and looking at her aunt’s expression once again changing, this time from a sympathetic to an amused one, she knows she’s failing miserably. “Go on then,” her aunt says gently, “open the letter.”

So Angela does. She fumbles at the part of the envelope where it’s sealed shut and does her best to open it slowly so she doesn’t accidentally tear it with her trembling fingers.

Once she’s finally extricated the letter from its confines, she swiftly scans her eyes across the elegant writing. Relief settles in her bones as she lightly trails her fingers over the curves of the Headmaster’s signature.  She keeps looking at the letter, even when she hears her aunt’s chair scrape the floor as she rises to stand behind Angela.

“I got into Hogwarts,” she tells her aunt, with a certain disbelief coloring her voice. It’s not that there was anything to suggest that she wouldn’t, but she had still doubted. Hogwarts was one of the best magic schools Europe had to offer, what if Angela wasn’t good enough? This though, she thinks with a smile on her face, this was certainty, and her last doubts are put to rest.

She feels her aunt putting her hand softly on her head, slowly pulling her fingers through Angela’s blonde tresses. “O Angela,” her aunt murmurs, “your parents would be so proud. If only they were here to see it.”

She doesn’t look up at that, because she knows what will happen if she does. Her aunt will look at her, and see her mother’s cheekbones and smile, her father’s chin and eyes. And then she’ll cry, as she always does when Angela reminds her of her sister and her brother-in-law. Angela desperately doesn’t want her aunt to cry, not today, so she puts her hand on top of the one her aunt has on her hair, and squeezes reassuringly, holding it there until she can feel her aunt squeeze back a thank you. Her aunt presses a kiss into her hair before moving to collect the dishes and deposit them into the sink.

Angela lifts her eyes up from the letter then, to study her aunt while she washes the dishes without any magic. Her aunt had once said, that she enjoyed the routine, but Angela suspects that she’s been a little bit afraid of magic, ever since the wizarding war. She had looked so young before, but now the same blonde hair Angela has, had streaks of gray among them, and the light smile wrinkles around her eyes that Angela had adored poking at so much when she was younger, were deeper now from crying and frowning.

Most noticeable of all, was that her aunt did not do well in crowds anymore, and loud noises seemed to make her jump and look around in a panic. Angela knows from extensive research in the muggle library nearby, that her aunt has something the muggles call PTSD. It’s times like these, when Angela wants nothing more than to help ease her aunt’s pain, but she has just turned eleven and she doesn’t know how or where to even start. So she simply watches her aunt’s shaky hands (they’re always slightly shaky now) wash away the grease from her plates, as her heart aches deeply for her.

The war hadn’t been kind on her aunt. But then again, she thinks, looking at the moving picture of her smiling parents hanging above the fireplace, the war hadn’t been kind on anyone.

\---

They use the Floo network to get to Diagon Alley in London, where her aunt rents them a room in the Leaky Cauldron where they’ll stay until her aunt drops her off at the Hogwarts express, after which she’ll travel back to Zürich. 

Buying her supplies is like an adventure, and Angela feels like she’s walking on clouds as she drags her aunt to all the stores. Purchasing her wand, her robes, her books and her new owl only serve to make her even more excited as the day goes on, and even though she notices her aunt struggle with the crowds at times, it seems her excitement has rubbed off since her aunt too, sports an excited grin.

Before she knows it, it’s the first of September, and she’s surrounded by the hustle and bustle of other students saying goodbye to their families and boarding the Hogwarts express. Her aunt’s trembling smile betrays the fact that she’s desperately trying not to cry, and suddenly Angela isn’t so excited for Hogwarts after all.

“Oh my little Angie,” she says, tears spilling out of her eyes anyway as she moves to hug her, “what am I going to do without you?”

Angela squeezes back, buries her hands into her aunt’s sweater and holds it tightly. “I’ll miss you, auntie,” she manages to mumble as she desperately chokes back her sobs.

Her aunt pulls back a little, and leans down to press tiny kisses all over her face. “I’ll miss you too, Angie, so much,” she softly coos, while wiping both her and Angela’s tears away, “Be good, be careful, and don’t forget to write me many letters.”

With that she presses one final kiss on her hair and releases her.

“I will, auntie,” Angela answers back, walking towards the train and waving at her aunt one last time, “I will.”

She stands in the small hallway for a minute, still silently crying. When she finally stops, she wipes away the tearstains on her face properly, and moves to start looking for a place to sit. Before she can though, she hears footsteps close by, until they stop next to her. She looks to her side and her eyes widen as a young boy with a cowboy hat too big for his head grins at her.

“Howdy,” he drawls, tipping his hat at her.

She frowns at him in disbelief, but nods at him in acknowledgment. Is he for real?

“Said goodbye to your mom?” He asks, motioning his head to the station.

“My aunt,” Angela admits quietly.

He hums at that before extending his hand. “Name’s Jesse Mccree, I’m from America, but I take it you already guessed that.”

She stares at him warily before shaking his hand. “Angela Ziegler, from Switzerland.”

He grins, seemingly pleased at the introduction, and jerks his thumb to point behind him. “I’m guessin’ you’re a first year too, huh? I already got a compartment, you should join me. We foreign first year students should stick together.”

Angela opens her mouth to protest, but slams it shut as she realizes she really doesn’t know anybody else. She won’t have to awkwardly walk into a compartment, and introduce herself if she sits in Jesse’s compartment. She quickly looks him over one more time. He seems carefree and a little smug, but also genuine. He may be a bit over the top for her tastes, but she could do worse for the train ride, so she nods her assent.

“All righty then, follow me!” He beams.

She follows him to the empty compartment, and lifts an eyebrow as Jesse turns to grin at her before sliding the door open.

“Guess others didn’t wanna sit together with a weirdo who has a cowboy hat on.” Though the statement is self-deprecating, it doesn’t seem to bother him in the least. So Angela takes the cue, and laughs before sitting down.

The rest of the train ride is spent tentatively talking about their expectations of Hogwarts, and swapping childhood stories, they pointedly avoid any war-related ones. In the beginning Angela tries to laugh politely or hum approvingly at Jesse’s jokes, even though she’s sure at least a dozen of them are going over her head. As the hours go by, she notices Jesse seems to enjoy her sighs in exasperation more than her polite laughs, so she stops trying to do the polite thing.

In the end just before they step into the boats, she notes that she’s spent most of the train ride not thinking about her aunt’s tears, and watching Jesse’s delighted grin, she wonders if that was his aim all along. She grins back at him, relieved and excited all at once, and doesn’t regret sitting with him.

\---

Nothing could have prepared her for the Sorting hat.

Angela looks on nervously as names are called on, in alphabetical order. She guesses, that she’s going to be one of the last ones to be called upon. All the names and houses that are called out are a blur to her, but as Jesse’s name is called, she pays special attention.

It’s silent for a spell, while Jesse waits with the Sorting hat on his head. He had entered the great hall without his cowboy hat on, but she hadn’t seen where he had put it away. A few more seconds pass, before the Sorting hat bellows out a “Slytherin!” And Jesse swaggers towards the Slytherin table, decked with green and silver and its students going absolutely wild, with a grin.

Something twists inside the pit of her stomach, and she wonders if she can be put into Slytherin, just so she won’t be all alone with new people. No, she thinks, she can do this, it doesn’t matter what house, as long as it’s the best one for her.

She was right when she guessed she would be the last one to be called upon. Professor Amari, the deputy headmistress, yells out a “Ziegler, Angela!” So Angela steps forward, all the while worrying she’s going to throw up. She sits down, and puts the hat on her, her eyes widening slightly when it immediately starts talking, seemingly in her mind.

“Ahh, Miss Ziegler,” it speaks to her, “it’s nice to meet you.”

Angela doesn’t know if she’s supposed to say (think?) something back, so she says nothing.

“Know the Mccree boy, do you? Want to join him in Slytherin perhaps? Yes, yes, you’d do well in Slytherin.” The Sorting hat chuckles, and it washes over her like a bucket of cold water. “With that brain of yours, you’d also do well in Ravenclaw. But what is it that you really want?”

What she really wants? She closes her eyes and thinks of her parents, her aunt, the grief, the war that left behind so many scars on so many people. In all that, is the answer to what she wants more than anything.

“I see, I see, yes, this house, you’ll be your best in this one, Miss Ziegler,” the Sorting hat hums, “enjoy your stay at Hogwarts.”

Angela opens her eyes just as the Sorting hat shouts “Hufflepuff!” The people sitting at the table decked in yellow and black roar in excitement, while she puts the Sorting hat back on the chair and walks towards them, stunned. When she sees Jesse give her a thumbs up from the Slytherin table, and feels the people next to her patting her on the back, a smile slowly spreads on her face.

Hufflepuff, she thinks, she can work with that.

\---

Angela settles into routine Hogwarts life within two months. She spends most of her time in the library, pouring over countless books for hours even though coursework comes to her easily. People, both students and teachers, are starting to notice.

Jesse joins her often, and she’s glad for his company though she could do without the cowboy hat he always wears outside of class. He’s always happy to see her, it seems, even though she’s sure he would never step foot in the library if she wasn’t there. He also updates her on all the gossip, that has apparently been about her.

“Ain’t I tell you before, Angie? They’re constantly murmurin’ around you, how haven’t you noticed?” He chastises her.

She shrugs at that, while flipping the page of a book about healing tonics. She’s friendly enough with others of her year, but they seem to be content leaving her mostly alone, except for when they need help on coursework, and honestly she’d been content having them leave her alone as well.  

“They talkin’ about you, like you’re some kind of genius, you know?” He chides, not ready to let it go.

She sighs, and adjusts her ponytail, something she’s been wearing ever since she noticed it helped with reading. “I’m no genius, Jesse.”

Jesse raises his eyebrows and nods at the book she’s reading. “Coulda fooled me Ange.”

She shakes her head, “I just work hard.”

“Surprisingly, being a genius and working hard aren’t mutually exclusive.” He laughs as Angela kicks at his legs.

“I wonder why nobody is talking about you being such a smart ass.” And Jesse only cackles louder, and they start swapping petty insults after that.

But Angela doesn’t forget, and she starts paying a little more attention to what the general student population is saying about her.

\---

“Sometimes I worry I’m in the wrong house,” Angela confides in Jesse one day not long after that conversation, when he has joined her in the library once again.  

Jesse looks at her, clearly surprised. “What brought this on?”

Angela regards him with a tight-lipped smile. “You told me they were talking about me, so I started listening,” she answers.

He gives her a crooked grin in return, and she realizes he must’ve kept the full extent of his knowledge on the gossip from her, because he looks like he knows exactly what she’s talking about.

She sighs, dejectedly, and slams the thick book about healing spells in front of her shut. “They’re saying I belong in Ravenclaw or Slytherin, that I’m being wasted on the puffs. That I can do more, that I can do better in other houses. Apparently I’m too talented for Hufflepuff.”

Jesse huffs at that.

“Do you agree with them? That you’re too good for Hufflepuff?”

“Of course not!” She shouts, and immediately cowers when she’s shushed by the librarian. “Of course not,” she repeats more quietly. “Hufflepuff is a great house, as good as any other. If they can’t see that, then shame on them.”

 Jesse nods, then tilts his head slightly to the side.

“Then what’s the problem?”

Angela pauses for a second, mulling the question over. “What…what if they’re right, Jesse? What if I can do more, can do better at Ravenclaw or Slytherin? What if I’m not reaching my full potential?”

Jesse starts chuckling, but quiets down when she shoots him a frown.

“I’m sorry Angie, sometimes I think you forget we’re eleven years old. Reaching your full potential? Is that what you’re doing all this readin’ for?”

“No, no… I just want to do the best I can, so I can give it my all for later. I’ve always just wanted to help people, you know? I understood why the Sorting hat said Hufflepuff, but now suddenly everything seems a bit unclear to me.”

“It seems pretty clear to me,” he says, leaning back on the chair and lifting his legs to put his feet on the table. Angela looks at his feet pointedly with a grimace, but his grin only widens as he shrugs with an indifference only Jesse seems to be capable of.

“You’re patient Ange, you gotta be patient to be puttin’ up with me, that’s for sure.” He chuckles when she rolls his eyes at him but his face turns serious after that. “It’s more than that though. You’ve been obligin’ anyone that comes to you askin’ for help on homework, no matter what house, hell, no matter what year! And don’t think I didn’t see you consolin’ another first year, that I’m pretty sure you didn’t even know, when they felt homesick. I think that constitutes as kind and fair.”

She nods hesitantly at him, noticing what he’s trying to tell her.

“But most importantly, you work hard exactly for those reasons. Because you’re kind, fair, patient and loyal. You want to be a healer right?”

That makes her look at him in surprise, she didn’t think he had noticed.

Now it’s his turn to roll her eyes at her. “Oh come on, you didn’t think I noticed? Most of the extra books you read have something to do with healing. The way you avoid talking about the war? The way you cringe when violence is mentioned? You said it yourself, all you ever wanted was to help people,” he chides.

He moves his legs from the table and leans forward, making sure she’s looking at him when he taps on the book she had slammed shut.

“That’s why you’re a puff Ange. People goin’ around pinnin’ one defining trait from Ravenclaw or Slytherin house on you, ‘cause they’re too blind to see you’re already in the house that’s got all the traits that describe you perfectly. I guarantee you, when Helga Hufflepuff created Hufflepuff house, you were exactly the kind of student she was looking for.”

Angela stares blankly at the book in front of her, unsure of what to say. Luckily, Jesse is content to leave her be, as he squeezes her shoulder briefly before walking towards the door.

“Jesse.”

He stops but doesn’t turn around, only shifting his head to the side to show her that he’s listening.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, putting as much gratitude in that quiet statement as she can.

“You’re welcome, partner,” he shoots back, grinning while he tips that stupid cowboy hat of his.

Angela watches him walk away, and in that moment she feels a big surge of affection for this boy with a cowboy hat slightly too big for his head, and swagger that betrays an easy confidence no other eleven year old has.

She smiles as she starts gathering her books and putting them away, wondering idly what her parents would think of her best friend.

When Angela returns to her bed that night, she closes her eyes and thinks of the Hufflepuff traits Jesse said she embodied. _Loyalty, kindness, patience, dedication,_ and she feels a sense of immense pride and happiness swell up and burst from her heart, spreading to the rest of her body.

In her first year Angela Ziegler had doubted being put into Hufflepuff house, but after that night, she never doubts again.

\---

 

The rest of her first year goes by quickly, with nothing extra special to note.

She invites Jesse to her home in Zürich during Christmas break, when she finds out he only has an orphanage to go back to. They celebrate her birthday, that conveniently falls during Christmas break, together with her aunt. She rolls her eyes every time Jesse tries to charm her aunt, and sighs loudly whenever her aunt actually giggles while patting his head. At the end of the break, she feels like her eyes are about to pop out of their sockets, because of all the eye rolling she does, but she wouldn’t trade the memories for anything.

She keeps excelling at coursework, and she’s still mostly in the library, where Jesse can be found babbling about the latest thing he’s done to piss off Hanzo Shimada. (“I like it when he gets a bit annoyed,” he admits to her when she asks about it. “He looks like he wants to kill you,” she says, shooting him a concerned frown. Jesse laughs at that. “I like that too.”)  

People still talk about her from time to time, but she pays it no heed, and after a while everyone seems content to just let her do as she pleases. They still come to her for coursework, and she helps them all as best she can, but other than a polite hello in the hallways and in the common room, that’s the extent of her interaction with them.

Angela passes all her exams with the highest grade possible, and before she knows it, she’s standing on platform 9¾, laughing as her aunt playfully tugs on her ponytail.

“Ready for the holidays?” Her aunt asks her, fingers pulling through her bangs.

“Yes,” Angela answers with a smile, “and after that, ready to go back to Hogwarts.”

\---

Her second year starts just as eventful as her first, with the deputy headmistress’s owl landing in front of her with a note, just as she’s shoveling an omelet into her mouth. She chokes a bit when she tries to swallow it whole, so she can quickly retrieve the note. On it, it says that professor Amari would like her to come to her office immediately after her classes. She looks at the table where all the professors are eating, and notices Amari looking at her with a small grin. Angela quickly nods at her, and pats the professor’s owl before it flies back to its owner. Professor Amari’s grin only widens, and Angela suddenly worries a little about her safety.

After her classes have ended for the day, Angela dutifully walks to professor Amari’s office. As she stands in front of the door, she takes a deep breath, and knocks. When she hears the professor’s voice from inside telling her to enter, she opens the door and walks in.

“Ah, miss Ziegler, thank you for coming,” Amari says with an easy grin, motioning towards the seat opposite her, “please sit down.”

Angela sits down, and does her best not to fidget.

“Tea?”

“Yes please,” she answers with a polite nod.

Professor Amari smiles, takes out her wand and waves it once for the teacups to settle in front of them, and another time for the cups to fill with tea. Angela thanks her, and for a little while they sit quietly, sipping their tea. She takes the silent moment to study her professor.

Ana Amari had been a famous Egyptian Auror even before the war, but made even more famous by it. The story of her heroically losing her tattooless eye, while battling numerous evil wizards, is well known in the magical world. Angela wonders though, thinking of her aunt and her parents, if the professor likes the story being told as much as children like hearing it. She had immediately quit being an Auror after the incident after all, taking up the position of Charms teacher instead. It was said that Ana Amari’s mastery of Charm magic had made her such a good Auror and duellist, Hogwarts was certainly lucky to have her.

She’s brought back from her thoughts, when the object of her wonderings hums, and sets her teacup down.

“Miss Ziegler,” the professor starts, “I wanted to talk about your grades.”

Not in trouble then, she thinks, unless getting the best grades of her year somehow spells trouble. She nods in acknowledgement, to show that she’s listening.

“I think, you and I both know that seven years of Hogwarts might be wasted on you, as your teachers and I have guessed that you’re most likely able to graduate in three.”

Angela opens her mouth to protest, but stops at the professor’s raised hand.

“Please, let me finish, Angela.”

Amari’s easy smile and the use of her first name put some of her worries at ease, but not a lot.

“We’re not sending you away, and if you don’t want to finish in three years then you won’t have to. But the headmaster and I have gone over this, and we want to offer you something more. Something that will keep you challenged. Does that sound agreeable to you, miss Ziegler?”

Angela knows she looks ridiculous with her eyes wide open, and her mouth slightly parted, but she’s too surprised to really react otherwise. Amari chuckles at her expression.

“Y-yes, I would like that!” Angela manages to stutter out.

“Anything particular you have in mind, miss Ziegler?” With that the professor flashes her such a reassuring grin, that Angela feels she can ask for anything.

“I’d like to intern at the infirmary here, with Dr. Zenyatta,” she admits truthfully.

“Any particular reason for that?” the professor asks, lifting her teacup to sip at it.

Angela pauses for a second at that, she can just say she wants to be a healer, no more no less, but that’s not what she wants. She wants professor Amari to understand why, wants a teacher she can depend on when she feels a bit lost.

“I…lost my parents in the war,” she begins, and Amari’s expression is sympathetic, but mostly knowing, and it’s too much for Angela, so she looks down at her lap instead.

“They weren’t Aurors, or soldiers, or really part of the war. They were just there, at the wrong place and the wrong time. People tell me that they fought bravely, and died bravely when they were ambushed. But I think… I think I’d rather them have run away cowardly, if that meant they’d still be alive.” She pauses, swallows back the bile, and continues. “My aunt took me in after the war, unlike my parents she did actively fight in it. People tell her she fought bravely too, but eh… I don’t think she cares much. I think she’d rather have the war not happen at all.”

She breathes in deeply, willing herself not to cry. The professor hasn’t made a sound, and Angela briefly wonders what she would see in her eyes, were she to look up now. But she can’t, not yet.

“A lot of people died during the war, the rest got scars, emotionally, physically. There weren’t enough healers, and healing magic is dangerous if done wrong so a lot of people steer clear of it. Maybe…maybe that’s why so many people died. And I know I’m only twelve, but I’m smart, and I work hard, and I’ve been reading a lot of tomes on healing! I just… I just know I can do better, I know I can make a spell somehow, one that makes healing easier, and do more. I don’t believe in violence, or war, but if it has to happen then at least I can make sure less people die! I just want to help people, professor, so I guess that’s why I want to be a healer. That’s why I want to start more hands-on learning about healing from Dr. Zenyatta.”

Angela lets out a long breath after she’s done talking, feeling lighter somehow, now that she has let it all out. When she finally looks up, Amari is staring at her with an expression that contains sadness, motherly love, respect, and pride, all in one. Like she just heard the most wondrous thing come out of this second year Hufflepuff student.

Angela grips at the edges of her skirt tightly, and suddenly misses her mother so much, she’s sure that if professor Amari keeps looking at her like that, she’s going to be crying soon. Luckily, the sound of the door being whipped open snaps her out of it. They both look at the door, and Angela sees a girl with Gryffindor robes and an almost uncanny resemblance to the professor standing there.

The girl and professor Amari exchange a few sentences in Arabic before the girl turns to her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know there would be anyone here.”

Angela gives, what she hopes to be, a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Angela, this is my daughter Fareeha, she has just started her first year at Hogwarts. Fareeha, this is Angela Ziegler, a second year student. Before you interrupted us, we were talking about her excellent grades and how much she would like to be a healer. Maybe you can follow her example, hm?”

She feels a pang of sympathy for the girl as she watches Fareeha’s body stiffen at her mother’s words.

“Yes, mother,” Fareeha replies dutifully, but Angela can hear that she doesn’t mean it, and shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

 The professor must’ve noticed, because she turns to Angela fully, with a smile on her face. “Angela, I will talk to Dr. Zenyatta about the internship. You will be hearing from me again soon.”

Angela nods, and stands up. She knows a dismissal when she hears it.

“Thank you, professor Amari, I’m looking forward to it. And err... Fareeha, I’ll probably see you around?”

Fareeha tilts her head politely in acknowledgement, and Angela notices that the tension has still not left her body. She tries flashing a sympathetic smile, but the other girl’s face stays frustratingly blank, so she lets it go and leaves the room. When she closes the door behind her, she can already hear the scolding tone in the professor’s voice as she fires rapid Arabic at her daughter. Angela doesn’t linger.

\---

Professor Amari keeps her promise, and a few days later Angela starts her internship at the infirmary. She loves it, it’s as if all the pieces of her life are falling together, and she wonders how many other twelve year olds can say that.

Working with Dr. Zenyatta is an experience, he’s gentle, kind, and he dishes out advice to anyone that comes by as if his life depends on it. His being here is an oddity though, from medical papers she read, he used to be a top-shot doctor at St Mungo’s before coming here.

She asks him about it on the second day of her internship, why he left such a promising career at St Mungo’s, only to come and take over the infirmary at Hogwarts. He smiles at her obligingly, and tells her that he wanted to do more than just heal, he wanted to guide people, and what better place than a school filled with hormonal teenagers? Angela’s respect for him rises even more after that.

\---

As she’s leaving the infirmary one day, she hears a familiar voice call out to her.

“Hey Angie, wait up!”

It’s Jesse, so she turns around and waits.

While walking towards her, he makes a show of tugging up his pants, and her eyes fall on his belt, which proudly says ‘BAMF’, and that he’s been wearing ever since the second year started.

She’d worry about it being against some kind of Hogwarts dress code, if not for the fact that the first time Jesse wore the belt to their joined Charms class, professor Amari had looked at it for a few seconds before proceeding to cackle rather loudly.

“Hey Jesse,” she says once he’s caught up, “Dinner together?”

He nods, grinning at her cheerfully.

While walking he tugs on her lime green robe, the ones that healers always wear. “Don’t wanna change into your puff robes first?”

She shrugs. “I’m sure they all know by now that I work with Dr. Zenyatta, and if they don’t, then they will soon.”

“Fair enough,” he says while tipping his hat at her, laughing when she rolls his eyes at him.

Just before entering the great hall Jesse pulls her to the side. He gives her a wry grin when she raises an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, I just need to ask you somethin’.”

“Go ahead.”

He scratches his chin, and huffs, before opening his mouth again. “Slytherin is holdin’ Quidditch tryouts two weeks from now. Do…do you think I should try out? As in, do you think I’d be good enough?”

She looks at him in surprise, and immediately thinks back on the first year flying classes. Hufflepuff students had shared those with Ravenclaw, so she hadn’t seen Jesse fly there, but she had seen him fly around a bit during Christmas break when they were in Zurich. She was no expert on flying (she was good at it but not that good), and Quidditch didn’t interest her much, but Jesse was good on a broomstick. But did that mean good enough for Quidditch? Yes actually, she did think so.

“I do think you’re good enough, Jesse. You should definitely try out.”

“Aw, thanks, Angie!” He plucks his hat from his head, puts it to his chest and bows deeply, “you flatter me.” When he looks up, he starts cackling at the disgust evident on her face.

Later, when they sit down next to each other at the Slytherin table, she glimpses relief in his eyes. He must have been really worried, Angela thinks, and endeavors to encourage him more often. 

\---

“Hi!”

The cheerful greeting makes Angela look up, and she sees it’s coming from a small Asian girl, most likely a first year, swathed in Gryffindor robes.  

“Hello,” she answers back, “do you need any help with your coursework?”

These days, Angela is well known as the go-to student for help on coursework, and it’s usually one of the only reasons why other students bother her when she’s in the library.

“Oh no, I’m doing just fine! Angela Ziegler, right? The one that works with Dr. Zenyatta in the infirmary? I’m Mei-Ling Zhou, but you can just call me Mei. Can I sit here?”

Angela gives her a wary nod, but Mei doesn’t seem to notice, or care, as she positively beams at her before sitting down.

Mei nods at the book she’s been reading. “Doing research?” she asks.

“I…yes, I’ve been doing some research on how to reverse curses.” She answers truthfully. She isn’t sure what to make of this Mei girl, most people make polite conversation with her before asking for help, but no one has asked her about what she’s doing before.

“Oh wow, that’s cool!” Mei exclaims, and Angela notes that she seems to actually mean it.

“Magical creatures is more my field I think. I know we can only choose that course in our third year, but I’ve always been interested in nature and the environment ever since I was little. I also want to do research, like you! The world is so beautiful, I want to find more ways how to protect it and stuff.” She babbles.

Angela blinks a few times. “That’s… very admirable, Mei.”

“Thank you, Angela! But enough about me, tell me more about what you’re researching.”

Mei looks so painfully genuine, that Angela can’t help but give in, and starts talking about the things she’s been reading.

When a half hour passes, and she is still not done talking, but Mei has done nothing but listen attentively, sometimes interjecting with questions and comments, Angela knows that she has just made a new friend.

\---

Fareeha Amari is a trouble maker it seems. This is the fourth time Angela has had to treat her. It’s a broken nose this time, which, she supposes, is luckier than the fourth year student that came in covered in boils last week.

The first year is sitting on the edge of the bed, slumped, with her hand clutching her nose. She sits up straight, and lifts her head stubbornly though, when she notices that Angela is shaking her head at her in disapproval. She’s obedient however, when Angela starts dishing out orders.

“Chin up. Hand away from your face, please. All right, this should do it. _Episkey_!”

She watches the younger girl sniff, and touch her nose gingerly. Seemingly satisfied, she nods at her.

“Thanks, can I go now?”

Angela squints her eyes at the Gryffindor in frustration. “You’re lucky Dr. Zenyatta isn’t here, you know. He would’ve given you a lecture about how violence isn’t the answer.”

Fareeha huffs, most likely remembering the very same lecture she got the last few times she was here. “Are you going to give me the lecture instead?” She chides.

“Are you going to listen to me if I do?” Angela shoots back.

“Probably not.”

“Well then, why would I waste my time?” She asks, exasperated. 

Fareeha shrugs at that. “Because you believe in it?”

Angela sighs, pulls her fingers through her bangs. “I do believe in it, Fareeha, I just think in this particular instance, the lecture might have the opposite effect of what I want.”

The Gryffindor grins, confirming her suspicions. She rolls her eyes, and thinks that between her and Jesse who has also been getting in fights, her eyes are really going to fall out of their sockets soon.

She’s about to give the lecture anyway when the door opens, and professor Amari walks in.

“Healed already, Fareeha? Too bad, I would have liked to see you grovel in pain first.”

“You always say the sweetest things, ami.”

The professor chuckles, and shoots Angela an apologetic look before turning back to her daughter again.

“Detention for a week, little one, as I’m sure you’ve guessed. Actions have consequences. ”

For a moment Angela thinks the girl might protest, but she only nods gravely. “I understand, mother,” she says, then turns her head to Angela, “can I leave now?”

She nods. “You can leave, but I don’t want to see you in here again, Fareeha.”

“Sure thing, Angela. I’ll make sure it’s the other guy in the infirmary next time.”

Fareeha hops off the edge of the bed, and sprints out of the infirmary before she can reply.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, Professor Amari, but your daughter is a brat.”

“Yes,” Amari says, amusement and affection equally clear in her voice, “but she’s my brat.”  

\---

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Angela remarks quietly, as Mei ties a Gryffindor shawl around her neck.

“Oh come on! It’ll be fun, Angela. You go to all of Jesse’s matches dressed up in green.”

Angela grimaces, and doesn’t tell Mei that she seriously suspects he would cry if she didn’t. Mei smiles at her as she starts painting her cheeks with streaks of red and gold, and she can’t help but smile back. The tiny Gryffindor has that kind of effect on people.

“And…there, all done! Let’s go.” Mei says, as she quickly surveys her work. Angela sighs, and allows herself to be dragged along.

Jesse joins them as they’re walking towards the Quidditch pitch. She notes with horror that he’s managed to find a Gryffindor shawl to tie around his cowboy hat, and he has stuck little red and gold flags into it, adding to that he has painted his face half red, half gold.

“Too much?” He asks when he sees the utter disgust on her face.

“I’m literally about to vomit. Are you sure you’re a Slytherin? How did you even leave the dungeons unscathed looking like that?”

“Aw shucks, Angie,” he chuckles, putting his arm around her shoulder, “you worried for me?”

“Not at all, Jesse. I had hoped to see you jinxed so I could laugh and not heal you while doing it.”

Jesse guffaws at that, and she laughs with him until Mei’s voice makes them whip their heads around.

“Oh hey Fareeha, are you going to watch the Quidditch match too?”

There’s no reply, because it seems that Fareeha is too busy glaring at her and Jesse, but especially Jesse. Angela wonders if it’s some sort of house pride, since they’re a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin dressed in Gryffindor colors. She shifts uncomfortably, which appears to snap Fareeha out of it.

“Hey, uh, yeah, I’m going to watch the match too.”

“Great! You can join us then!” Mei exclaims.

Fareeha shakes her head frantically. “No, that’s all right. I was going to watch with Zaryanova, and we wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s no bother, Fareeha,” Angela assures her, “and I promise I won’t lecture you.”

The Gryffindor gives her a half-hearted grin, and nods. “I’ll go get Zaryanova and find you all in the stands later.” She unsubtly eyes Jesse’s outfit. “I’m guessing, you’ll all be in the Gryffindor box.”

Jesse shoots Fareeha two thumbs up, while Angela rolls her eyes and Mei giggles.

Once the young Amari is out of earshot, Mei turns to her. “Isn’t she sweet?”

“Sweet?” Angela thinks back to her previous meetings with the Gryffindor, and sweet wasn’t the word she’d use. Polite when necessary perhaps, and stubborn. Especially stubborn.

“Yeah, sweet and brave too! She’s always protecting other first years from bullies. She even stood up to a few third year Ravenclaws when they were threatening a first year Slytherin. I heard she got a broken nose out of it though.”

Angela’s eyes widen in surprise. Had all of Fareeha’s injuries been from fighting bullies? They certainly could be, and from the sound of it, they almost certainly were. She endeavors to ask once she sees her in the Gryffindor box again.

Angela sits all the way to the right, with Jesse in the middle and Mei to the left. Closer to the edge of the box, she tells them, so she can flee faster. In reality she hopes Fareeha will sit on the empty seat next to her so they can talk properly.

It doesn’t take the two girls long to find them, and Angela recognizes the pink haired puff as Aleksandra Zaryanova, that despite being a first year is already towering over most fourth years, from the infirmary.

“Hey everyone, we’re here.”

Angela tries not to smile as Fareeha, indeed, takes the seat beside her and the other girl climbs over them so she can plop down in the empty seat next to Mei. They both don’t seem bothered at being separated.

Aleksandra leans forward to greet Mei and Jesse individually before shifting towards her.

“Dr. Ziegler, it’s good to see you again! Thanks to you my muscles have never felt better!” She booms, flexing one of her arms. Angela sees Jesse barely containing his laughter and shoves her elbow into his side.

“That’s good to hear Aleksandra, and please I’m nowhere near a proper healer yet. Outside of the infirmary I’m just like any other second year student, so please call me Angela.”

“Ah, then call me Aleks, Angela.”  

She smiles and turns towards the girl sitting next to her.

“Fareeha.”

“Angela.”

Angela chuckles. “Do you like Quidditch then?” She asks.

“I love it,” Fareeha answers, smiling in a manner she never did in the infirmary, “one of the Gryffindor chasers is graduating this year, so I will try out for the position next year.”

“Oh that’s good!” She praises cheerfully, “I hope you get it.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Angela frantically thinks of something else to say or ask, she doesn’t want to jump to the infirmary subject immediately and scare her off, she promised not to lecture her after all.

“So what do you like about Quidditch so much?”

“Oh, eh, well I guess I simply like how the sport is played, but my favorite thing is the flying really. All the flying maneuvers and stuff, the feeling of it, there’s eh, nothing quite like it.”

She looks at Fareeha blankly, shit, she has no idea what to say to that. “Well, that sounds…nice.”

“Yeah…yeah it is.”

The silence that follows is awkward to say the least.

The other girl shifts uncomfortably next to her.

“Something on your mind, Fareeha?”

“Is eh, is he your boyfriend?” Fareeha asks as she nods to Jesse.

Angela snorts. “Oh please, he wishes.” She glances at Jesse and sees him wave cheerfully to Hanzo Shimada who is sitting in the Slytherin box next to Amélie Lacroix, they both look as disgusted as she was with his outfit. “Actually never mind. Anyway, no, Jesse is absolutely not my boyfriend, we’re just best friends.”

She looks relieved, which confuses Angela but she decides not to ask about it. Instead she asks the question that’s been on her mind ever since Mei’s revelation.

“So Fareeha, a little lion told me that the reason you’ve been injured so much in the last few months is because you’re protecting people from bullies. Is that true?”

Fareeha looks away with a grimace, so she waits for her to start talking. Just as she thinks she’s not going to get an answer and opens her mouth to press again, the other girl turns her head towards her again.

“Yeah, it’s true.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, or Dr. Zenyatta for that matter?” She asks her, confused.

“I thought you’d disapprove and try to stop me.” Fareeha admits truthfully.

Angela puts her hand on the Gryffindor’s knee and squeezes reassuringly.

“You did a good thing, Fareeha, standing up for others. I just wish that didn’t mean seeing you hurt in the infirmary.”

The other girl flushes as red as her shawl, and nods uncomfortably, seemingly wanting to drop the subject, so Angela lets it go.

She changes her opinion on Fareeha from brat to honorable idiot though.

Later, when Gryffindor wins against Ravenclaw and she sees her laugh and cheer with sparkling brown eyes, Angela changes it from honorable idiot to sweet, honorable idiot.

\---

Another year ends with Angela receiving the highest grades for all her subjects. She’s standing on platform 9¾ again, this time a parchment with Mei’s contact details clutched in her hand. (“Don’t forget to write me!” Mei exclaims while shoving the parchment into her hand. “I won’t think of anything else, Mei.” She jokes. Mei giggles and pulls her into a tight hug. “Thank you for making my first year so much fun.”)

She looks up when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“How were the last days of your year, honey?”

Angela smiles at her aunt. “Good, auntie. Dr. Zenyatta says that next year he wants to give me more hours on my own so he can do more counseling.”

“That’s amazing, Angie. He must see what a wonderful healer you’re becoming,” her aunt praises, leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead.

Next school year was sure to be another interesting one, Angela thinks before following her aunt out of the station.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> First two years of Angela's life at Hogwarts down! Hope you all enjoy it!  
> I want to do all the Hogwarts years and some delicious pharmercy slowburn with it, so prepare your anus.  
> Hit me up at my tumblr if you like, which is the same username as my ao3 one. Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.


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